Natural
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: Another bleached blonde theory picking up from Dear Boy.


**_Natural_**

Author's Note: This starts off with a little bit after _Dear Boy_, then a little bit after _Guise Will Be Guise_. But the third part, the longer part is set after _Reprise_, when Wes, Gunn and Cordy are on their own and Virginia and Wes have broken up.

* * *

_"You had sex last night with a bleached blonde."_

Wesley tapped the desk and Cordelia shot him an irritated look. Reminding him once more that he should be worrying about Angel and not the fact that he came dangerously close to being discovered. Angel was still upstairs, brooding. There wasn't much they could do, but that didn't stop Cordy lamenting the fact.

"There's gotta be something we can do!" she cried, slumping into a chair.

"What do you suggest, Cordy?" Wesley asked wearily.

"I don't know. We just need to take his mind off this whole Darla thing!"

"The only thing that would do that is if we wheeled Buffy in here," Wesley said. "And got her to swear her undying love for him."

"You think she'd do that?" Cordy asked, tilting her head to one side, considering the idea.

Wesley rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing his coat.

"Where are you going?" Cordy demanded incredulously.

"Out," Wesley sighed. "There's nothing we can do here. I think you and I should leave him to stew in his own juices for a while."

"I hope that's English for _leave_ _him_ _alone_ and doesn't have anything to do with the _truly_ disgusting image it gave me. Hey," Cordy jumped up, grabbing her jacket and purse to run after him. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I'm meeting someone," he answered, not slowing his pace as Cordy jogged to keep up with his long strides.

"Your bleached blonde, huh?" Cordy giggled.

"Goodbye, Cordelia," Wes replied patiently, turning in the direction of his apartment, leaving Cordy frowning on the corner.

* * *

He sped up a little, glancing at his watch. He was late. She hated when she was kept waiting, she never understood why he couldn't just be on time.

He entered his apartment block and ran up the stairs, two at a time, hoping against hope that she hadn't gone anywhere, because he really needed someone to talk to now.

He collided with an "oomph!" into a small blonde who looked up at him and glared, before breaking into a wide grin and leapt into his arms.

"There you are!" she cried. "I was starting to think I'd have to go all the way back to Sunnydale without seeing you!"

"Would I do that to you?" he asked, kissing her quickly, before pushing her against the wall and leaning in with a slight smile.

"What?" she asked.

"I thought you said you were a natural blonde, Anya…?"

* * *

They had met over the summer. She and Xander had had a major argument and she had walked out. A whole new her, so she said. She bought a whole new wardrobe, dyed her hair and left for LA.

Where she met Wesley in a bar. Caritas, to be precise. She was so familiar, that he struck up a conversation with her and when she mentioned Sunnydale and more precisely the fact that she had been Xander's date to the Prom, he realised who she was.

And once she remembered him, she told him in intricate detail about the uselessness of Xander Harris. And he told her that the Cordy and Wesley show had come to an abrupt end.

He's not sure who kissed who. He just remembers the best sex of his life. And the part where she left in the morning.

But then, she came back two days later.

"Xander and I are over for good," she had stated, without so much of a hello when he opened his door. "But I'm staying in Sunnydale."

"May I ask why?" he had asked her as she waltzed past him into his apartment.

"Well, I'm not going to move here, am I?" she had laughed. "But, there's a really reliable bus service and I like you, you like me. I could visit sometimes?"

It had been a question, but he grinned and grabbed her close to him.

"I'd like that," he told her.

"Good," she nodded. "That's settled. This isn't a relationship, Wesley. This is a bit of fun. When you or I meet someone else, it'll be over, ok?"

Seeing as he thought his chances of meeting someone were slim at best, he nodded. And so it went on. Every other day he would make sure he was home in time to meet her and every other evening, he would walk her to the bus station and see her on her bus before returning to work.

He never thought of it as a relationship, he was always quite certain _never_ to do that because he knew it would be over sooner or later. Though he hadn't thought it would be _this_ much later.

But, he wondered now whether she had remembered this wasn't a relationship.

"I'm sorry, Anya," he said. "Her name's Virginia Bryce. We met when I was pretending to be Angel. I… really like her."

"Does she like you?" Anya asked, her voice strong and blunt.

"I believe so," he couldn't suppress a smile as he said it.

"You've slept together," it wasn't a question.

"I… Yes. We did," he lowered his head. "I'm sorry. But, it was you that said this wasn't a relationship. I would never have done it if - you and I can remain friends, can't we?"

"Yeah," she grinned widely, nodding furiously. "Friends. That's what we'll be. I mean, if me and Xander can just be friends, you and I can just be friends too. It's gonna save me a fortune in bus fares. But I think I'll still ask Giles for that raise."

"You deserve it," he said softly. "Do you, uh, want me to walk you to the bus station?"

She shrugged and stood up, getting her purse. They walked in silence to the bus station and when she boarded the bus, he kissed her chastely on the cheek instead of their usual full on goodbye kiss.

He stared at the bus as it drove away and sighed as he turned to leave. Then he jumped, startled by the insistent ringing of his cell phone.

"Hello?" he forced a smile. "Oh, hello, Virginia… Yes, of course I'm pleased to hear from you…"

* * *

He forced himself painfully to his feet and sank gratefully into his wheelchair.

"All right, all right," he called, wheeling himself to the door. "I'm coming. Hang on!"

Wesley struggled to open the door and ease his chair back at the same time, but was stopped halfway through his endeavour by Anya bustling in and closing the door behind her,

"Listen to me, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I know what we had wasn't supposed to -" she stopped, blinked down at him for a second. "Oh my God! What happened? Are you all right? Are you going to die?"

"No, no," he grabbed hold of her hands and squeezed them. "I'm fine. I'm not going to die. Not yet, anyway."

"But, but, but," she babbled.

"Let's go into the living room, shall we?" he said, inwardly surprised at his outward calm when inside he was beside himself with joy at seeing her again. "Then you can tell me why you're here."

She nodded, nibbling her lip and helped him glide into the living room. She watched him push himself up from the chair and came forward, putting her hands under his arms to help him onto the couch. She met his eyes for a second, then lowered hers quickly. He sank down onto the couch and she took hold of his feet, lifting them up onto the couch. She pulled his robe around him, gingerly avoiding the white bandages, though her gaze lingered on them.

"Tea?" she asked quietly. "I've got better at making it. Giles gave me lessons."

"That would be lovely," he said and she left in a strange silence.

She was never silent. She was a chatterer. It was one of the things he liked most about her. She could give you startling insights into your own situation and if you didn't want to think about anything, she could chatter away until you stopped thinking and just listened.

But for some reason, today, she didn't say one word. It was making him uncomfortable.

"How's Virginia?" she asked finally, handing him a mug of tea.

"Gone," he answered, his jaw tightening. "About an hour ago actually."

"Forever?"

"I can't see her coming back."

"Did you love her?"

"I cared about her. But, no, I didn't love her. I think that makes her leaving that much easier."

"What happened?" she asked, indicating his bandages.

"This?" he asked, trying to make it sound like nothing. "Oh, it's nothing. Just an old wound."

"An old wound that's got you wrapped up like a mummy and in a wheelchair?" there was a note of accusation in her voice and he suddenly realised that she was frightened.

"Believe it or not, Anya," he said gently, setting his mug down. "This did happen a few days ago. A gunshot wound. Zombie cop. But I stood up to Angel today and popped the stitches."

"Why did you stand up to him?" she demanded.

"A lot has happened since I last saw you," he said softly. "Remember I told you about Darla being back?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And I still haven't told Buffy, just so you know."

"I knew I could trust you," he said, looking up at her and was rewarded with a happy smile. "Anyway. Angel wanted to save her, but she was dying. He couldn't save her from that, but Wolfram and Hart could. So they brought Drusilla back to turn her. Once turned, they massacred a cellar full of lawyers, aided - I'm sorry to say - by Angel."

"Angel killed people?" Anya gasped.

"No," Wes shook his head. "But he locked the lawyers in the cellar with Darla and Drusilla. He didn't even attempt to save them. After that, he fired myself, Gunn and Cordelia. We've been running our own investigation company since. That's when I got shot, I was trying to stop Gunn going after the zombie policemen."

"And Virginia just dumped you?" Anya asked, shocked. "When you needed her most?"

"She couldn't cope with my work," he shrugged, wincing and touching his wound. "And I couldn't give it up. But enough about me, what's going on in Sunnydale?"

"Dawn's not real," Anya said.

"Dawn? Buffy's sister? Of course she's real! I babysat her God knows how many times!"

"No, you didn't. She's the Key made human by monks. It's a long story, I'm too tired to go into it."

"Oh," he resisted the urge to ask her to tell him. His Watcherly interest was piqued and he wanted details. But he knew Anya, if he wanted details, he wouldn't get them from her. "Why are you here, Anya? Have you come to tell me you and Xander are getting married and you want me to be your Matron of Honour?"

"No," she shook her head. "Me and Xander are just friends. That's all we've ever been since last summer. Unless you count that one night about a month ago…"

Wes was stunned by the violent surge of jealously that coursed through him. The last time he had seen Anya was a month ago, so she and Xander hadn't slept together when he and Anya had been enjoying their mockery of a relationship. But still…

"I missed you."

He looked up and she was staring at him, a nervous, quivering smile on her lips.

"Pardon?"

"I missed you," she said again. "I was jealous of Virginia. I wanted you back."

"Anya -"

"I know, I know. It's my own fault. I never should have said that we weren't in a relationship and that it would end when we met other people. I'm new to this, remember? How was I supposed to know that you can fall in love when you're not in a proper relationship? If I'd known you could and I would, I would have made sure you knew that it was a relationship and you couldn't go jumping into bed with the nearest warm body!"

"Pardon?" Wes asked, mouth gaping, staring at her.

"Stop saying that!" she snapped. "You sound like Giles!"

"Sorry. I just… Could you run that by me again?"

"Which part? It was a long speech, y'know!"

"Just the part about, um, love?"

"Oh," she nodded, frowning as she tried to remember the words. "I said, how was I supposed to know that you could fall in love when you're not in a proper relationship?"

"And who did you fall in love with?" he prompted.

"I thought you had some kind of huge IQ?" Anya sighed in exasperation. "I meant you, dumbie! It was only natural. You were nice and kind, not to mention gorgeous and wow! Were you good in bed! It was only natural that I'd fall for you. But you had to go running off with some - some brazen hussy before I got a chance to tell you!"

"I wouldn't call Virginia a 'brazen hussy'… But why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was going to tell you that night!" Anya cried. "But you went and dumped me!"

"I didn't dump you!" he protested. "I merely broke off our affair. I thought I was very sensitive about it!"

"You were," she moaned. "You were sweet and gentle and that meant I couldn't even _hate_ you for it. And that's why I'm here. It was something Xander said. If you want something, you don't just let it go. You fight for it. He was talking about Dawn and the chips she stole from him, but I thought it applied to this. I want you, Wesley, and I shouldn't have just let you go. So here I am to fight for you."

"There's no one to fight," he reminded her with a smile. "Virginia and I are finished."

"Well, that's all right then," Anya nodded matter-of-factly.

There was a heavy silence and Wes wished he could move. Not that he would know what to do if he _could_ move, but it would surely be better than sitting here watching Anya twiddle her thumbs.

"What do you want -?"

"How do you feel about -?"

They chuckled and fell silent.

"You first," Wes said.

"I wanted to know… How do you feel about me?"

He frowned, thinking for a minute. Such a simple question with so many possible answers.

_I missed you._

_You make me laugh._

_You're great in bed._

_I hated saying goodbye to you._

_I love you too._

"I missed you," he said, going for his first instinct. "A lot. As soon as you left, I wondered if I'd done the right thing. But then the Angel thing started getting out of control and I had no time… But I still thought about you."

"And what did you think?" she asked.

"Mostly that if I had you to take my mind off things, things wouldn't seem so awful."

"We make a good team," she said softly.

"I've often thought so," he agreed.

"Does that mean you love me?" she pressed.

He laughed. God, he had missed that refreshingly blunt openness.

"I suppose in my own way I do," he admitted.

She let out a short burst of laughter and jumped out of her chair to kneel beside him and bury her head in his neck.

"You know, I _was_ hoping for a kiss or seven."

She giggled and pressed her lips to his.

"You know," she said. "I've had a lot of experience in shop work and home making. I think I could be a great asset to the agency and this place."

"Are you inviting yourself to stay?"

"No, I'm telling you I'm moving in."

"Of course," he nodded.

Well, he wasn't going to protest. He knew her well enough to know that saying no was pointless.

Besides, as she had said, it was only natural…

* * *

_**The End.**_


End file.
